Opheliac
by Chesiere Cat
Summary: Byakuran has decided to make the captured Mukuro his lovely doll - a doll that cannot say no to his order or his touch - as the day his plan to achieve godhood draws closer to achievement. Yet it seems fate has found itself a different scheme. 10069, BL.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

**Summary:** "You'll be...my most beautiful toy."

.

**Note: **(1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

—**Prologue—**

.

"Do you hate me that much?"

A voice, smooth like velvet, whispered in the darkness. So melodic and gentle as if soothing even if, in fact, it was nothing more than words of poison. The only audience's thin hands tightened, nails digging into his own skin as intense stench of blood filled the air – as sweet as it was nauseating. The world had become red…just like the blood dribbling down from his now hollow eyed…

As red as the color of that eye that had been brutally gouged out

"Mukuro-kun…"

That disgusting dulcet voice kept whispering his name over and over…just like the clinking of the cold metal chains that rang non-stop. In the darkness that the devil whispered sweet, acidic words, becoming more and more audible was the sound of hastened breathing. It was getting louder and louder, for he couldn't stop it anymore…as if…to convince him…

The very evidence of his losing.

Fresh, warm blood tricked down his legs, pooling on the solid stone floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip. More and more droplets ran down dripping – all bloody red. The captive, bound in the darkness, only replied with a smile that could not reach his one blue eye – the color of the sky itself – for he was again reminded how much he hated this world…and the true darkness that resided in it.

This…disgusting act.

Repeatedly…the feeling of this man…inside him.

"Even if…I like you this much." Long finger tried to force itself into the already filled hole, stretching the opening even as it couldn't bear the stretch even further.

More blood dripped down pale, slender legs.

Red against white.

The tissues were torn.

…His feet were only warm because of all the blood pooling…

"…Ahn…" The restrained beauty bit his lips. Only because he didn't want to let out the sound that he knew would do nothing more than please the other.

If there hadn't been any chain to restrain him, he would have fallen right there, for he had no more power to stand.

He felt so dirty…

One strong hand – tainted all over with blood – glided all over his body, leaving bloodstained traces as if to mark him before moving up his smooth abdomen – knowing so well the tension in the chained beauty's posture – up to his still heaving chest, and then…placing his fingers on those beautifully bleeding lips, smearing the blood there.

Painting them red.

"You like it, don't you, Mukuro-kun? Your body is reacting to my touch so eagerly. Why don't you let me hear your lovely moan?"

One single blue eye narrowed. Still, those bloodstained lips lifted up into a smirk.

"Ku…fufu…I'll tell you what, Byakuran-san."

There was nothing else he could see in the darkness.

"Y…you're the most disgusting mafia I've ever known."

Rokudo Mukuro hated mafia…as much as he hated this unfair world.

Pain entered him again and again…and even if he couldn't see it, he knew the other was smiling.

That deceitful smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment. So…"

"A…ah!!!"

The moan escaped him before he could stop it as if to signal…for his absolute defeat.

"From now on, you'll become my lovely doll. You'll do everything as I say."

The blood kept dripping down and down, pooling at his feet; however, the clink-clank sound of the chains was dying away…slowly but surely, like a pendulum that was losing its swinging force.

"You'll be…my most beautiful toy."

And then his consciousness was lost…

Just like the pride he couldn't anymore save as it was then broken...crushed into million pieces.

.

**TBC**

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For those who read my other 10069 fanfics, Folie à Deux is currently being dusted off thanks to all the demand here. The new chapter is soon coming.

Btw, Wish is on hold for the time being because I've stupidly made a mistake with the new installation of some programs and unintentionally deleted its 50% done draft.

As always, reviews are very much appreciated.


	2. I: My Beloved Doll

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

.

**Note:** (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

_You know the games I play_

_And the words I say_

_When I want my own way_

_You know the lies I tell_

_.  
_

—**Opheliac—**

_**Chapter I: My Beloved Doll**_

.

White. Everything had become absolute white. A stark contrast of the impenetrable darkness the seeming moment before. So bright it was blinding him...yet, instead of soothing him with its brilliance, it only brought back…unpleasant memories – those he didn't want to remember – about the insincere whiteness that came together with the disgusting scent of antiseptics.

The place he didn't want to go back. The place....where it all started…where…his humanity had first been betrayed.

"You're finally awake?" A dulcet voice rang from somewhere within the brightness. So smooth, like velvet, and gently melodic as if it belonged to an angel.

One blue eye fluttered open and then quickly shut itself just because it couldn't stand such bright light. He was more suited to dwell in the world of darkness – the darkness he wanted to paint this world. Yet…that warm hand that he felt he couldn't get away…touched him, caressed him…so tenderly…as if trying to soothe away his pain and sorrow. It touched him in the way that no one had ever dared to touch…

It made him afraid.

This accursed soul that had no wing to fly was afraid of heaven because if heaven decided to abandon him, stopping to welcome him in its embrace, he would definitely fall, falling to hurt and die on the rusty earth…because he knew it so well…

**This heaven he so longed for…**

One blue eye reopened…only to see that in front of him then was never too bright. He was still in the world he so loved to hate. And…the first thing that he clearly saw was no other than a pair of piercing Amethysts decorated on a handsome face belonging to the most disdainful whiteness…in the most hateful place.

**Never welcomed him. **

"Sleeping beauty…" That dulcet voice said teasingly. Handsome face inched closer with a bright smile. "And I haven't even kissed you."

A bright yet deceitful smile of a false angel.

Long, tapered fingers traced his soft cheek slowly as if trying to bestow upon its deadly paleness life and colors with their warmth…or…were they trying to say…he was their possession?

Those fingers then rested on his lips, feeling the red, red blood that they could easily spill pulsing under pliant flesh. Amethyst-colored orbs gazed at him from under dark lashes, reflecting the beautiful captive that was no more to him than a small vermin to crush, reflecting so well…the hatefulness inside that one cerulean eye they had started to adore.

"Close your eye for the kiss."

Just because they wanted to know…what secret that one cerulean eye that was too stubborn to close was hiding inside its depth…

For, with that secret, perhaps…the winner might truly conquer his ever-so elusive captive…conquering and swallowing him…whole.

Clink.

The chains still left their horrid marks on pale skin even as they were unshackled, for the capturer knew his captive was now too weak to escape. Still, the blue haired-man was denying, refusing every generosity he gave – even the warmth that made his inner, weaker part want to cry even if that one eye was too dry to shed a tear.

Clink.

So…there was only one shackle that was left.

Strong hand yanked at the chain connected to the leather collar, which wrapped so tight around that fragile neck…and even tighter when it was harshly pulled. It was suffocating. The blue haired-man gasped. Yet before he could really take in a wisp of air, his breath was again stolen by another pair of lips.

Sneaky tongue dipped into his mouth, teasing him and tasting him everywhere it could.

Mukuro felt his one eye start to get blurry. He hated it. He hated it so much when he was reduced to nothing besides a ragged doll. Unable to fight back. Unable to win. He had already lost. He lost everything…even his humanity because of the mafia.

He hated it so much…to be reminded of how helpless he had been when those cruel experiments had started. It was all the same…now.

He was…a vermin dancing in the palm of god.

The once thought to be brilliantly white room was actually so dark and dirty. All those tubes and electric wires hung all over the place. And…in one corner there stood a nasty collection of deformed organs displayed in clear bottles. There was that hateful smell of antiseptics…yet it wasn't strong enough to cover the familiar scent of blood.

The laboratory.

This was so nauseating he wanted to laugh.

"Ku…fufu…fufufu." Laughing out of hate. "…Kill me."

Because he couldn't shed a tear.

"…You're really stubborn." Strong hand forced the lithe body down onto the operation bed. The taller man smiled before leaning in. "Didn't I tell you…I will make you my lovely doll?" Wet tongue traced sensitive ear, hot breath causing the lithe beauty to shiver involuntarily.

"You hate me, don't you?"

That warm hand trailed across his tense stomach, circling around his navel…

"If you hate me that much, I will make you love me…need me…unable to live without me."

…before moving lower and lower.

Wet tongue slid from Mukuro's ear to his soft cheek, leaving a trail of saliva there to cool. The illusionist suddenly felt heat creeping up his face from all the humiliation. "I…ah…I will never be yours."

Byakuran only smiled, long fingers playing with the chain that perfected him the role of the master, violet eyes glinting with amusement. "Hmm…actually, I like it that you're so stubborn, Mukuro-kun. Because soon, you'll be really obedient. This…must be the last of your power, isn't it?"

The Vongola's mist guardian bit his lips, tasting his own blood on the tip of his tongue. The other was right even if he didn't want to admit it. He had lost. He had already lost from the moment he had been trapped inside those walls he couldn't see. His mind couldn't escape from this invisible square box he should call it a prison designed solely for him.

How honorable.

And now, being trapped in this prison, his consciousness had nowhere else to run. It was only a matter of time before the predator caught him…and when he had become too exhausted to struggle…

**It would be the end. **

Byakuran chuckled. He knew the barrier the other had built around his consciousness had weakened. After all those careful ministrations – weakening both the other's physical and mental strength – it was time he finally took his sweet prize. This was the game he loved to play. And perhaps…there was no one else in this world that could play it with him as long as this beautiful illusionist.

That was why…he wanted him.

Everything that was him.

Click.

As soon as the Millefiore boss pushed the switch, the wall parted, showing a hidden shelf in between. And, floating silently in the crystal-clear bottle on the shelf was…

One cerulean eye widened. There, where it had been gouged out from the now hollowed socket, the bloody wound suddenly stung painfully…as if calling out for what was missing.

In that bottle was no other than the accursed red eye.

"I'll return you this eye of yours." Byakuran whispered.

That odd eye that used to be in the empty socket that bled crimson, screaming for its return. Yet…

"I don't need it. You can just keep it as prize."

For he didn't want it. It didn't belong to him in the first place… That accursed eye that brought nothing but pain and suffering. Even if it gave him power, it also came with the saddest memories as it screamed for absolute darkness as much as he himself longed for someone to embrace him, soothing him with the love he never had.

That odd eye that completed his inhumanity…now that it was calling, wanting to reunite with him; all that he wanted was no other than…

Death.

"No, you will need it. You'll need to use it for me."

The last wall around the illusionist's consciousness started to break as he was again brutally entered. Losing again and again, being humiliated beyond words as his pride was shattering…there was only death that he wanted.

"You'll believe whatever lies I speak."

The death someone wouldn't grant him…because…

"Because from now on, you're mine."

He said he was…

"Ah…B…Byaku…ran…sama…"

The rightful owner of his life.

"My…beloved doll."

His master.

…

The sky was of bloody color.

The sun was setting at the far horizon, painting the sky red. Before nightfall, everything seemed motionless like a drawn picture…so still and silent as if all the birds had fled. Even those small insects hid themselves with fear so that no one could ever find them. Yet, inside the underground base of the Vongola, in a room so white and so silent, there lay the small form of a young girl – too young and innocent to die.

But she was dying, for the power of the Vongola ring could only help her life last a bit longer for the time being.

Death was inevitable and surely approaching.

The life candle was flickering, waiting for the time to die away like grains of sand falling down the hourglass…slowly but steadily and certainly.

Behind her close lids, on her tiring face, was the place she loved most.

The lotus lake that was surrounded by mist – the borderline of the realms of life and death – was the place she had first met Mukuro-sama. It was the place she had first heard his gentle voice whisper the words she had longed to hear this whole life – to have someone say her life wasn't worthless.

_I need your power. _

Mukuro-sama had told her. And from the moment she caught his offered hand, her life was his. She had given him her entire life – this worthless life he said he did want. Yet…

"Mukuro-sama, where are you?"

Right now, no matter how many times she had called, she couldn't see…or feel him. There was only the trident – the symbol of contract – he was so proud of…the weapon that should have been broken…standing there, in front of her.

The very symbol of his pride.

Small hand quivered as she reached out to touch it. Coldness wrapped itself around her mind and she was reluctant to really touch it, for fearing it would disappear before her eyes…like mist…like illusion.

_Chrome…_

Yet, that familiar voice she had learned to love came whispering to her…so soft and barely audible as if thoroughly weakened…like thin mist that could be easily swept away by mere wisp of gentle wind. The girl reached out and gripped the trident tight…oh-so-tight…because now she knew…

_My pride, I give it to you. _

This was him saying goodbye.

The mist that everyone hated for its coldness…the mist that everyone said was heartless…for her; it was the warmest thing she had ever known…even warmer than the summer sun that shone so bright. But now…from now on…

That mist was no more.

The lotus lake was fading. The ever shrouding mist was disappearing, leaving only darkness behind her eyelids.

The life she had given him…he had returned it to her. The life he had told her it wasn't worthless…if he wasn't here, it held no meaning. For there was no one that could replace him…the one she had given her life to…could given her life for…

He was there no more.

Warm droplets of tears came streaming down her cheeks. In the bed she had once lain awaiting her death, the once weakened breath had become strong and steady. And her heart that was so close to stop beating had recovered to life. Still, even if the blanket wrapped around her was thick and the tears that ran down her cheeks were warm, in the world of blackness behind her close eyes, she felt…

So cold…

…

"Byakuran…sama…"

His breath was becoming more and more ragged as those pretty lips kept calling the name of the one he had once so hated, begging, pleading with so much yearning and worship.

The pride that he would rather die to keep…was there no more.

"Byakuran-sama…"

Clear cerulean possessed not a trace of its old hate and disgust as slender arms wrapped themselves around the other so willingly.

"Ah…Byaku…ah!!!"

Because now, he couldn't remember anything.

"Easy, Mukuro-kun. I know you're a good boy." The taller man smiled with satisfaction, trailing his hand up the other's pale, quivering leg. "Now, spread for me."

Couldn't hear the screaming at the back of his mind.

On hearing that, the illusionist's pretty face flushed yet he forced back his embarrassment. "…Y…yes." Panting hard with anticipation, the blue haired-beauty spread his legs open, accepting what the other forced into him…again and again. "A…ahn…nnghh!!!"

**The mist that was captured… **

"Ah, you're so lovely, Mukuro-kun. I'll reward you."

**Now was no more than just a doll. **

"Ah…ah…"

**The most beautiful doll. **

"…Will you accept this accursed eye for me?"

**Its owner favorite toy. **

"Anything…for you, Byakuran-sama…"

**His beloved doll. **

.**  
**

**TBC**

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Phew, that was the fastest translation on my own record. I hope you all enjoy it and please forgive me for any error you may or may not find.

Anyway, make me happy and drop me a review? X3


	3. II: Oblivion Is Bliss

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

.

**Note:** (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

_When everything and everyone_

_Becomes my enemy and when_

_There's nothing more you can do_

.

—**Opheliac—**

_**Chapter II: Oblivion Is Bliss**_

.

"Byakuran-sama, there's an emergency line trying to connect in from our base in Japan, sir."

The white-haired don paused from his little game of lining up marshmallows. Piercing violet eyes darted toward the old man now working as his messenger – the way it should originally be.

"From Shou-chan? And contacting at a time like this…hmm…" Long fingers softly pressed the little piece of marshmallow in his hand – as if testing its suppleness. "This certainly isn't good news." Faking a sigh, the man leaned back in his sofa.

"Connect him in, Leo-kun."

This sixty-year-old man was the real Leonardo Lippi whom Irie Shouichi had originally suggested to work as his personal messenger. Despite his age, the old man seemed to work with much more efficiency and swiftness than those of younger generation he could called sons. His performance record was really admirable.

Byakuran didn't regret his waste of time letting the fake Leonardo Lippi in, though. For it if wasn't for such delayed arrival of this real one, he wouldn't have this lovely chance to capture the Vongola's ever-so-elusive mist.

That beautiful doll that would only listen to him…was right now sleeping, his consciousness trapped in a labyrinth so much more complicated than a simple death. Just because this beautiful doll…

…Couldn't ask for death.

_My lovely doll… _

Wet tongue slipped past soft pair of lips, licking and tasting the sugary flavor of his favorite sweet, thoroughly savoring the taste as if that snow-white little piece was actually the very flesh and skin of one certain beauty before biting and swallowing it whole.

It wasn't long until a familiar face appeared on the monitor.

It wasn't Irie Shouichi.

"Oh, it's you, Cervello." Still, the white-haired don didn't look surprised as he was still smiling. "How're things going over there?"

Even if he knew…

"…Our deepest apologies, Byakuran-sama, but our Melone base was attacked by the Vongola and sustained too many damages. Now we're taking refuge."

"Is that so? With that number of people, Vongola is truly impressive."

"If it wasn't for…unexpected betrayal, the result certainly wouldn't be like this, sir."

Byakuran slightly raised his eyebrows yet his hands were still busy with the marshmallows in the bag – seeming unaffected by the news at all.

"And what about Shou-chan? Surely he has something to say, hasn't he?"

The dark-skinned woman became silent for a brief moment before she finally said: "Irie-sama is sustaining injur-"

The screen suddenly went haywire as if unable to receive the signal. Yet it was only a moment before the image was back.

"Byakuran-san…"

Now, on screen was Irie Shouichi.

"Why, hello, Shou-chan. I heard the situation there isn't so good?"

The Millefiore boss was smiling; however, his bright smile only made Irie Shouichi feel even more tensed. The glasses-wearing man gritted his teeth.

"…Some of the Black Spell betrayed. The 3rd unit, Aphelandra… I was too careless."

"Careless?" The marshmallows Byakuran was playing with could now be clearly seen lining up as the word 'Betrayal'. The white haired-don's smile widened. "That isn't the word I thought I would hear from Shou-chan."

Irie frowned. And even if the image displayed on the monitor didn't allow the other to see all, just the change of expression from his face made it enough to tell how stressed he was.

Pressure.

The other was putting pressure on him. The more he said he had faith in him, the more he had to strive to meet that expectation. This man was definitely pushing him even if he was still smiling. No. Byakuran liked to do that with everyone – forcing them with fallacy of pleasant words – just like how he loved to fool people with sweet poison.

The more the victim showed his panic, the more fun he got. If one were to be put under such pressure for too long a period, it was possible for one to really become nuts.

"…"

"It's alright. Lightning Gamma…it isn't really a surprise for that man to betray us. What's more important…I suppose Shou-chan's experiment isn't all gone with the attack, is it?"

Shouichi frowned again, noting very well the special stress Byakuran had put in the 'betray' word…as if to stake his gravest mistake.

The mistake caused by him being too trusting.

"…I've already backed up the important information. And even if the Vongola ever suspects anything…" The glasses-wearing man narrowed his eyes.

The betrayal of someone he had called a friend.

Byakuran chuckled, his violet eyes twinkling. "Alright. Then…"

Someone that, in normal circumstance, he knew would become his best friend or even…something more.

"Withdraw from Japan. Take all your men back here."

"Wha-!?"

Shouichi's eyes immediately widened. He wasn't sure if he had heard the order right.

"What!? You want me to withdraw…"

Because he knew Don Millefiore, Byakuran, wasn't one to really worry about his subordinates' wellbeing.

"You hear me right. And Shou-chan~ you're still injured, right?"

He wouldn't care if anyone would die under his command as long as he could have what he wanted.

"…It's just a scratch. Besides, the Vongola rings…"

_So, right now…_

"Don't worry. Those 'gifts from the past' will soon be sent here." The white haired-man smiled before picking up a marshmallow from the 'Betrayal' pile and popping it into his mouth.

_Just what is this man thinking?_

…

"Reborn! Chrome…that girl! She is awake!"

The woman assassin whose title was Poison Scorpion, Bianchi quickly spread the good news as soon as Chrome returned to her consciousness, for the existence of this girl…meant the existence of another one.

"I see. This means Mukuro is still alive." The arcobaleno said, nodding. Yet instead of looking relief, the hitman baby seemed to be thinking.

"Reborn…?"

"…I have a bad feeling. Giannini, contact Tsuna. I want to know the movement of the Millefiore."

"Got it." The plump inventor nodded and immediately complied.

…

In the world of darkness behind close lids, in the slumber even deeper than dreams, there was a place where once the spirit could roam freely. However, right now, all that was left of that place was…a prison, caging the lonely soul inside thick, invisible walls, trapping him in the blinding space scarier than death itself.

Someone used to say…death was not scary. That someone used to know…death was not the end of everything.

There was a voice, so soft and yet so familiar, ringing from somewhere in the back of his contained memories.

**Have you forgotten me? **

That voice…sounded as if coming from his own self…but it didn't, for here, no matter how hard he tried, there was no voice escaping from his lips.

He couldn't see anything. He couldn't say anything.

He could only hear the voice that was like his own speaking.

Even if it didn't come from these lips.

**Have you forgotten me? Have you forgotten me? **

That voice kept whispering, asking.

**Do you still remember our promise? **

…Promise…?

**You soul…given to me…belongs to me…for eternity…in return of…my embrace…the love…you long for. **

Asking for something this soul couldn't remember, for it had already forgotten.

**Have you forgotten me? How could you forget me…when…I've never betrayed you? **

…Betrayal…?

The doll could remember nothing.

**Don't you remember…there's only my embrace that welcomes you…even if this world has abandoned you?**

Therefore, he felt nothing as he couldn't understand the screaming of the accursed red eye he had once sold his soul to. Didn't feel any pain even as his other half that desired absolute darkness in return of fulfilling his childish wish was screaming…

This beautiful doll could remember nothing.

…

Warm.

Something warm and wet touched his face…moving up his cheek…before kissing either of his eyelids…so tenderly it was tickling.

Long, dark lashes fluttered open, revealing one clear cerulean eye from which crystal droplets of tears were streaming down non-stop…even if the owner of that sky-colored eye didn't know why. Yet, the reason didn't matter as long as the picture reflected in that eye was of his master, his owner, his…

"Byakuran…sama…?"

The white-haired don smiled his trademark smile. Strong hand cupped the other's pretty face before leaning in, kissing the tears away. The blue haired-beauty didn't move. Nor did he show any sign of disgust as he let his master touch him as much as he wanted; kissing, touching and even licking his face.

As if to say he was his possession.

And he was.

"I come to visit. How was your operation? Does it still hurt that much?"

"…No. It didn't. It doesn't hurt."

It didn't hurt because he had already forgotten everything.

Slender hand rested on the gauze on his right eye under which the accursed red eye that had the memories of six realms was now hidden. "The doctor said the eye accepted me as its owner easier than he first thought…"

It didn't hurt…because that eye wouldn't hurt the one it had claimed as its rightful owner – one who had given it both the body and the soul.

Strong hand caressed the doll's face, long fingers wiping away the tears staining those pale cheeks. Violet eyes looked closely at those tears before the white haired-don finally voiced"

"And these tears…?"

"…Just a nightmare, Byakuran-sama." The blue haired-man replied before abruptly changing the subject. "…I heard our base in Japan was taken by the Vongola. Is that true?"

"…Quite true. But don't worry. I already have a plan. Now…I want to hear more about this dream of yours." The don's fingers were now playing with his newest toy's silky blue tresses as he marveled at the softness of them. "I want to know…what made my lovely Mukuro-kun cry."

"…" For a long while, the blue haired-beauty was silent. He didn't want to talk about it because he didn't know…and didn't want to know. He just wanted to forget everything. But…he couldn't deny his master. Didn't want to deny him. "I…"

Slowly, he began. "I heard a voice…"

A voice that was very much like his but it wasn't.

"The voice that was like my own…calling me…asking if I have already forgotten our promise. He said…" Blue eye stared ahead yet it didn't look at anything in particular…because he knew…the thing he was looking for…wasn't there. "He told me…there is only his embrace…that welcomes me when this world has…abandoned me…"

On hearing that, Byakuran smiled, one arm pulling the lithe body close, forcing him to lean onto his chest. "…And does Mukuro-kun…believe him?"

"…" Mukuro closed his eyes, slender arms embracing the taller man tightly. "I only believe you, Byakuran-sama."

Byakuran's smile widened. "Really? You're so cute, Mukuro-kun." The taller man said before pinning the smaller man onto the bed and crawling on top of him. He immediately ravished the other's deliciously exposed throat, earning sweet moans from the lithe body underneath him.

The blue haired-man's arms then wrapped around the other's neck as he begged him with unbearable need – desperate for his master's touch – at the same time wanting nothing more than to make his master satisfied. Just because of those lies he spoke. Just because…

This lovely doll was too oblivious to notice…those Amethyst-colored eyes that were so cold…colder than the glacier in dreadful winter.

_You're really a stubborn one, Mukuro-kun._

Strong hands caressed the beauty underneath; touching him all the way he wanted. There was no word of denial…or even just a mocking laughter that strongly stated the disapproval.

There were only sweetest of sweet moans coming from complete willingness.

"Ah…ah…"

And as the tips of those naughty fingers circled the pink nubs of flesh that were hardened because of fiery desire…tweaking them teasingly until the blue haired-beauty couldn't stop moaning…

"Byakuran-sama…ah!"

The pretty doll's nightmare was then entirely forgotten.

Byakuran's smile wasn't so angelic as his now favorite toy closed his eyes.

_Maybe…it's a bit too soon to use you. _

.

**TBC**

.

I've already stated in the author's note above but here I'll say it again just to remind you. This story was written before Melone base arc ended, so Shouichi will be on Byakuran's side and, unfortunately, the real six funeral wreaths won't make any appearance. ^^;;

Anyway, please feed the feedback monster! X3


	4. III: Tainted Color

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

.

**Note:** (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

_Doubt thou the stars are fire __  
__Doubt thou the sun doth move__  
__Doubt truth to be a liar __  
__But never doubt I love_

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**—Opheliac—****  
**_**Chapter III: Tainted Color**_

.

O lovely doll, why don't you look…look at the world that had once abandoned you? The image that reflected now in the mirror…was that…of a pair of mismatched eyes.

…Do you still remember…once when you had asked for heaven? The heaven you feared you'd fall from, for gentleness could be faked, warm could be just illusion and love…could be all…a lie.

Do you still remember how your wings had been cut off as you were left to fall, falling…before being restrained, incarcerated in darkness that felt like eternity?

The reflection reflected back from the mirror never changed. It displayed only the truth before it. It was, instead, the people in front of it that always changed…

Do you still remember…that foolish person that shed his tears for the heaven that would never welcome him, crying just because he couldn't leave behind his childish desire to be loved? How many droplets of tears he had shed…before he finally stopped believing…stopped wishing for the light? That blindingly bright heaven that would never accept him, he turned his back on it even if he still couldn't bring himself to forget his agonizing desire.

Even though he knew his so-longed for heaven wouldn't even care to spare him a look.

Mismatched eyes stared blankly at the reflection in the mirror. Clear droplets of water clung dearly to pallid skin as if they didn't want to part with the one they loved. Even if some of them were to fall languidly from those flowing blue tresses that were still soaking wet. Those beautiful threads of hair that did nothing to cover those marks of possession made on milky skin.

Long, dark lashes lowered as a slender hand lifted up to touch the area of his throat where it had been thoroughly marked.

Was it for that reason…that he was so drawn to the endless blue? Keeping staring at the greatness that was the sky even from the darkest place of his damned prison. Just because he was too foolish to never really stop believing…that there was still heaven…somewhere over those freely drifting clouds.

**Even if the sky was of bloody color. **

The sharp edge of the razor glinted dangerously in the light of the room. It gleamed so white…so sharp that even the slightest force of pressure could draw out the reddest color from those soft fingertip that glided mindlessly along it.

Hurt because of lying and being lied to. Hurt because of lying to himself day after day…the same thing over and over. Just because there was no place in this world to really welcome him with open arms, for he was forever cursed to stay with nothing…but his own lies. Because the mist…the illusion…would lie to its creator as much as it was truthful in the untruth to believe.

Pale fingertip pressed against the sharp edge. Blood immediately gushed out from the fresh wound, coating the white with red.

**Only to cover that hollowness in his heart. **

"Mukuro-kun…" A gentle, dulcet voice whispered in his ear, abruptly halting what the doll was doing in the process. For the moment those beautiful mismatched eyes left the mirror to stare at the razor, the reflection of another man had appeared. "Suddenly leaving the bed like this, I'm so worried about you." Strong arms wrapped themselves around the lithe, still naked body, not caring if the clothes he was wearing was going to be wet.

…**The agony that he had now all forgotten…**

"…My apology." Those mismatched eyes lowered, slender hands grabbing the other's hands tightly, "I just want to take a shower," as if feared his master would be angry and dissatisfied.

Crimson blood dripped, dropping from the open wound on that small fingertip, staining the back of stronger, larger hand with its contrasting color. Violet eyes shifted toward the bloodstained razor in the sink.

**Red against white. **

The taller man smiled. "What a naughty boy you are." He said before grabbing Mukuro's slim wrist, pulling him toward another mirror – the one that filled one entire side of the wall. It reflected…everything…so vividly…from head to toe. "It seems I'll have to teach you…make you remember…that your body is my property."

Long fingers raked through still damp tresses of hair, playing with the beautiful locks before…yanking them harshly enough to make his little doll feel the pain. "Your hair…belongs to me."

The smaller man moaned softly but didn't protest. His shapely legs wobbled as Byakuran's other hand took hold of his erection, bestowing him again this…powerful sensation that would soon guide him to bliss. The obedient doll closed his eyes, his breath becoming more and more ragged. Yet…

"Ah!!!"

That warm hand that moved along his length suddenly squeezed him hard. And he would have lost his footing if it hadn't been for those strong arms around him. Those wicked lips brushed against his ear, whispering with that smooth voice that he knew came with an order. "Don't close your eyes. When I'm teaching, you have to look…see it all....and remember…how I touch you." That whisper was accompanied with another squeeze.

His master would not accept denial.

The doll shuddered and slowly opened his eyes. Everything was so vivid in the mirror.

"Good boy." The white haired-man's smile widened as he moved his working hand away, leaving his pretty doll hanging in the midst of soaring heat. That lovely cock was wonderfully engorged and swollen. "Hold it until you have my permission."

The blue haired-beauty bit his lips. His pale face flushed with rosy color as his master lifted the fingers that were thoroughly coated with his precome and brought them close to his lips…as if telling him to taste himself.

"These lips…belong to me." Byakuran smiled satisfactorily as the doll obediently parted those pliant lips. Pink tongue darted out and licked the fluid from those fingers before taking them into his mouth. "Mmm…"

The hand that was in silky blue hair then moved, making its way languidly down to pale chest, playing with the pink little nub there until the lovely little doll screamed with need.

"Ah…" Lithe body arched up as lustful sensation ran through him like shocking electricity, stimulating his already aching desire for release. "B…Byakuran-sama…" He gasped. It felt…so painful.

"Mukuro-kun's body belongs to me." Byakuran still whispered his now so rightful claim as if it was a chant. Pulling the doll's slim wrist close to his own lips, he licked away the blood that seeped from that small wound on the fingertip. "And your blood…is also mine."

So painful…the doll was being burnt alive with desire.

So painful…for he wanted nothing more than his release…to feel bliss.

Mismatched eyes then widened as something – so warm and hard – brushed against his entrance, tracing the puckered hole oh-so-evilly teasingly just because it was yet to enter.

"Now, can you tell me why you are a naughty boy playing with the razor, hmm?"

The rosy color on the doll's pretty face reddened. Mismatched eyes lowered, unable to meet the piercing violet pair in the mirror. "I…I thought its whiteness was just like Byakuran-sama."

The razor-sharp whiteness. Colder than ice and sharper than spikes.

The taller man chuckled before bending down to nibble the doll's reddened ear.

The doll was too cute…

_If you are still you, will I ever see you make a face like this? Or will you still…_

"Well, I think red does suit Mukuro-kun."

_Laugh…even though those eyes of yours never smile along with. _

Red, the color of blood, made a perfect match as it dripped down onto pristine white.

_For we are both liars._

Amethyst colored eyes gazed deep into mismatched ones in the mirror as if trying to search…for a trace of something that might still be left in those now so innocent windows. For a brief moment, silence seemed to prevail as the only sound so clear was that of their mingled breathing. And then, ultimately, the false angel whispered…the words that someone used to long to hear them, desiring them…more than anything in this world.

"If this world abandons you, I'll take you into my embrace, for we can create our own heaven. Even if it is all red. I'll let you see…the world that cannot deny you."

_Because from now on, I'm your entire world. _

…O beautiful doll, when someone had finally offered you both heaven and the embrace to hold you, were you still afraid of again falling now that you didn't feel any pain…? Even if…this heaven was so faked…and much crueler for the love you had once longed for.

"I love you."

This doll that was like a white sheet no one had yet to color…

**Those sad, sad colors were all erased…**

Being lied to…to make you think that it was love. Lying that it was love even if it was just the desire to hold you as a possession. Holding you there just to be a toy…to be used…to…

"Beg me, beautiful."

_I will dye you…with all the colors I want. _

…To hurt you even if you didn't know anything.

"Ah…Byakuran-sama…please…"

_Because you are…_

A doll.

"Ah…ah…ah!!! I…"

_Mine. _

"I love you, Byakuran-sama."

…

"What!? Are you saying that Mukuro is still alive?

It was Sasagawa Ryohei's voice that first destroyed the silence as soon as Reborn announced the news.

"The fact that Chrome is still alive is a good evidence." The Arcobaleno said, nodding to the girl in Kokuyo school uniform. The girl's face was still a bit pale but she could walk without needing a support now.

"Still, if the news about those Millefiore units withdrawing back to Italy is true, it sounds really suspicious."

"So what do we do? Contacting the Varia? They're in Italy and at least, the fact that we…"

"You're too noisy. Sit down. You're an eyesore." The voice came from the guardian of the cloud of ten years later. He was standing with his arms crossed against the door frame, far away from the conference table. It wasn't too far that he couldn't hear what the Arcobaleno had been saying, though.

"What!? You're also standing! And why is someone who doesn't like 'grouping' like you here, huh? You're annoying to the EXTREME!!!"

"The hell are you yelling for, stupid lawn head!? You aren't behaving like a grown up at all! You really shame the tenth!"

"Tsuna isn't a narrow-minded, boss, Gokudera. But surely, Tsuna, you can decide we're whether to yell or not to yell. Hahaha."

_Wait. That isn't the point. Stop pushing matters on me. _Tsuna looked at each of his friends. Seeing their…not-so-unexpected reactions, his head dropped. The tenth Vongola boss sighed.

"Giannini, how's the investigation with Irie Shouichi's round white machine?" Reborn turned to ask the plump inventor instead of paying his attention to the little brawl still going.

"The first level investigation has only 40% of the overall data. We still cannot conclude anything for certain. But the only thing that we know for sure…"

Giannini sighed.

"Is that…this machine will only work with a key. And this special key, we cannot mold a mockup ourselves. No. Actually, a mockup won't work at all."

"What do you mean a mockup won't work?" Lal Mirch, who had been quiet for all this time, finally spoke up.

"It means the only key that can make this machine work is…"

The plump inventor zoomed the picture of the machine in, presenting before them the image of a small hole he had claimed was the place to put in the key. The close up of the picture made Tsuna's stomach churn. It looked more like a…

"The Mare Ring of the Sky."

Silence prevailed once again in the conference room of the Vongola secret base. Everyone knew exactly well the true meaning behind that fact. Tsuna swallowed hard. The price they would have to pay to return to their era might be as high as losing their own lives, for the only way to get the Mare Ring of the Sky…was to face the Millefiore Boss who was its current bearer.

"So…to Italy, huh?" Ryohei once again broke the silence; however, this time he sounded much more serious and calm.

"Gamma, you know where the Millefiore Headquarter is, I suppose?" Reborn turned to ask the blond man who had been sitting and listening quietly like a good guest. For the man knew his own position. He was currently both a guest, an ally and…a refugee.

"The Millefiore Headquarter…" Yet, before the man could continue, there was an interrupting signal trying to connect itself in through the Vongola base's server.

"What is it?" Everyone turned to look at the monitor. It was a signal they had never seen before.

"It's not from the Varia. No virus detected." Giannini said before opening the message to answer everyone's curiosity.

It was a set of images of maps. All of them were very detail as if being sent from that place itself.

The skyscraper in the middle of a city.

"This is…"

"The maps of the Millefiore Headquarter."

Gamma confirmed.

…

The first thing Mukuro saw after reopening his eyes was that of an empty room. There was no sign of that man…the only person that owned his life.

Bare feet stepped from the bed, feeling soft carpet. Mismatched eyes looked around, searching for his beloved master. Yet, the only thing he had found was…a black shirt that was folded neatly nearby…along with a small piece of paper.

'I'm waiting on the 19th floor. You'll have to wear my shirt for now.'

"…" Slender hand picked that black shirt up, immediately putting it on as he was ordered. For his smaller frame, the shirt seemed to be a bit too big and loose yet…

The innocent beauty buried his face in the shirt's sleeve that seemed too long for him, inhaling the faint, familiar scent that smelled so much like flower from there.

_Byakuran-sama's scent…_

Long, dark lashes lowered as if in infatuation as he thought of how his master's scent seemed to overwhelm him when he took him into his warm embrace.

_"If this world abandons you, I'll take you into my embrace, for we can create our own heaven." _

The shirt was put on and the door was open. The doll was finally being let out for the first time since his operation.

The blue haired-beauty walked like a haunted puppet along the corridor…only to meet two men in Millefiore's White Spell uniform.

"Ooh, what is this? Walking around without your pants, beautiful?" One of the two immediately leered.

The shirt was long enough to cover some places. Still, it wasn't enough to cover everything.

"…" The doll didn't even spare them a glance. They were never his sight.

"Playing hard to get? Ah, but maybe you like it rough?" The man licked hips lips as he drew closer. "How about some blood?"

"_And your blood…is also mine." _

In a blink of an eye, the mismatched eyes that seemed empty flashed dangerously. Blood curdling scream was heard, echoing along the corridor as lives of the once living were taken. Red splattered beautifully against either side of white walls.

Two bare feet that were once so cold were now warm with blood. And the no-more-innocent doll smiled his first smile since waking up from the dream in which old, sad colors were forgotten.

_"Even if it is all red. I'll let you see…the world that cannot deny you." _

"Ku…fufufu…the color of your blood. It is…so beautiful…"

The red, red color that tainted the doll.

Violet eyes watched from the monitor of the 10th floor control room. The Millefiore boss smiled in satisfaction as he popped another sweet piece of his favorite marshmallow into his mouth. Aside from this, the sending of information to the Vongola base's server was also done. He stretched, picked his coat and got up.

"You're going out, Byakuran-sama?" Leonardo, the old man, asked as he took in the younger man's casual clothing.

Byakuran smiled.

_My color…I'll slowly dye it on you. _

"I'm taking Mukuro-kun shopping. You look after the rest, Leo-kun~~."

_And then, we'll have…a lot of fun.  
_

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**TBC **

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Reviews are always very much appreciated.


	5. IV: Dolce Veleno: Part A

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

.

**Note:** (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

_Moonlight shadow in solitary__  
__It's just that I'm so thirsty...__  
__The fruit I've sunk my teeth into...__  
__Ravishes me with its sweet, sweet, but deadly poison_

_._

**—Opheliac—****  
**_**Chapter IV: Dolce Veleno (Part A) **_

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"It's raining already, huh?"

Byakuran tilted his head skyward, cold, clear droplets of rain falling down onto his palm. The sky was dull with dark-colored clouds. The trees whispered as they swayed in the blowing wind that seemed to croon louder and louder each passing minute. Leaves danced freely in the air as more and more crystalline raindrops fell.

"My, this is bad. I had the driver leave."

The white-haired man sighed softly before pulling the lithe body coming with him toward the closest shelter. The paper bags they held was a bit wet but luckily, the stuffs inside were still pretty safe.

It seemed this shopping arcade was still crowed even when it was raining. Perhaps it was because of its extraordinary charm that made people keep on walking around without worrying about the weather. In this city filled with skyscrapers, who would have thought there would be a shopping arcade magnificently fashioned after those old buildings you see in Milano. And in the middle of the park, the Fountain of Angels positioned there like a meeting place of lovers.

In the place such as this, if someone were to gaze at them, they would be nothing more than two ordinary people – those whose hands were never stained with blood. They'd look like friends…like…

Amethyst-colored eyes gazed at the blue haired beauty beside him. The white-haired man then took off his coat and put it around the other's shoulders.

…Lovers…

"Byakuran-sama…?" Mismatched eyes moved from varieties of stuffs on the selling shelves he could see behind the shop mirror, fixing instead on the taller man who had just given him the warm coat.

The man merely smiled before shifting his gaze toward the things the other was looking at the moment before. "So…you like chocolate, Mukuro-kun?"

"…Yes." The blue haired-man replied, his slender hand grabbing the other's elbow. "But…I…I like Byakuran-sama better."

Byakuran's eyebrows lifted up slightly as if to question. However, there was no need for the lovely doll to answer as the taller man softly chuckled before leading the other into the shop.

The sweet scent of chocolate suddenly filled their nostrils as soon as the door was open. The chiming sound of the small silver bells told the owner he was having customers.

"Benvenuto. [1]" The owner of the shop was a middle-aged man whose friendliness was as pleasant as his homemade chocolate. "What chocolate would you like for today, sir?"

There were different kinds of chocolate, coming in various shapes. Some were kept in a crystal-clear bottle tied nicely with sweet-colored ribbon. Some were placed within stylish boxes. Yet, as for the one to pick…

The white-haired man smiled.

"Cioccolato per il mio amore. [2]"

He took a credit from his pocket and handed it to the seller before turning to whisper into his lovely doll's ear:

"Take as much as you want…since I already know that you like me better. "

…

"Oh, you're back, Irie-sama." Leonardo, the old man greeted as soon as he found the White Spell 2nd Rosa Squad leader already sitting in the waiting room.

"Leonardo-san, Where's Byakuran-san?" The glasses-wearing man asked, tightening his grip on the document in his hand. And even though he looked better than the day he last contacted via emergency line, the tiredness still showed on his a bit too pale face.

The gray-haired man gazed at the younger man in both understanding and pity. No matter how you look at it, Irie Shouichi was still too young for the burden. The load weighing down on those slim shoulders seemed to always be too much. But perhaps, it was for that very same reason that the man, a few years from being called a boy, tried so hard to prove himself, striving for the seemingly out-of-reach goal.

The old man shook his head slightly before replying:

"It's a pity. Byakuran-sama left 2 hours ago, sir."

"He's out!?" Shouichi almost jumped up from his seat.

_Even if that man is known to be unable to stay still, at least…in this circumstance…_

"Did he tell you where?"

"He said he would be out shopping, sir." Leonardo replied. He left the information about the Vongola mist guardian secret as ordered by the Millefiore boss himself, though.

Shouichi rubbed his temple, feeling like having a migrane from his boss' behavior. His brows knitted together as he seemed to be deep in thought. Then, finally, he sighed and gave the document he had with him to the old man. "Then, I'll leave this with you. Please hand it to Byakuran-san. And if he's back, please tell him to contact me immediately."

The old man nodded, taking the document. "...An urgent matter, it seems."

Shouichi sighed again. "Urgent…and important."

…

The rain didn't seem to be stopping. Crystal-clear droplets rolled down the window mirror, behind which the beautiful town of imitated Milano could be seen looking completely like a little town for dolls. Thunder rumbled loudly as lightning now and then flashed, temporarily illuminating the dull world under the raining sky as bright as day.

In the hotel room not far away from the shopping arcade, sitting so still on the plump armchair was one blue-haired beauty whose current innocent loveliness was quietly mocking the old self this beauty used to be. A bottle of animal-shaped chocolates lay on the circular table with its lid already open – more than half of content eaten.

Mismatched eyes stared out of the window as their owner sat there, unmoving…like a doll. A doll that stayed there, watching the little town below without ever feeling bored or tired…

**A doll town for a living doll.**

...Until the ritual got interrupted.

One soft towel was put on the wet blue head.

"If you stay like that, you'll get a cold, Mukuro-kun."

The white-haired man smiled before proceeding to towel those wet blue locks.

"..." Mismatched eyes still didn't shift from what they were looking out the window…didn't lose their fixated gaze…as if couldn't look away from a certain something. Byakuran raised his eyebrows before following the other's gaze.

The Fountain of Angels.

There, in the middle of the park, those beautiful angels sang the sweetest song never to be heard, for the musical tune from their harps and the whisper from their flutes – so close to perfect marble lips – was none other than the typical sound of nature to human's unable ears.

The echoing sound of the rain.

White wings, black marbles, golden instruments. Water came pouring down and down. Down from up there, high up in heaven.

A naughty kid took of his shoes, playing with the pouring rain. The kid laughed; running and jumping along the rain-soaked street. He laughed and laughed and jumped into the puddle and again laughed. He then skipped closer to the Fountain and splashed the water at his little sister who, in return, cried…so loud that their father and mother had to scold him.

As the doll sat there and watched, the scene started to replay, distorting itself behind the fog that veiled most of his memories…into another scene that once happened somewhere…a long time ago:

There was a quiet boy whose eyes, just like him, were of strange mismatched color. Ruby-red and sky-blue stared at a fountain which looked so much like the one below in the park. And then this little boy asked…a question to a tall man…whose face he couldn't remember.

_If angels were real, how would this world be? _

Yet the man, holding his little hand, replied:

_Men create angels so that they can dream. _

That man…whose hands and kindness were so warm…it seemed he couldn't remember…

…Couldn't remember how cruelly he had betrayed his trust.

**For everything had been…was…just a lie, an illusion.**

"...If we can create heaven, do you think there'll be angels?" The blue-haired beauty asked with voice barely above a whisper, for the question seemed to him like a request for a forbidden fruit and just for asking that made him feel so lost…so small and vulnerable…

For he wasn't sure whom the question was really for.

Yet…

"Of course," an answer that wasn't really expected whispered back to him, so clear and audible, with a puff of warm breath. The warmth that wasn't so far away but so close…just in reach. "If you wish for angels, then there'll be angels."

**Even if everything was a lie…just like this so-called heaven. **

Strong hand cupped the doll's face, making him turn to meet with an angelic smile. Yet, those amethyst-colored orbs seemed to shine differently as thunder split the sky into halves.

"Or…is it that my lovely Mukuro-kun doesn't believe what I say anymore?"

Why…fearing…when there was nothing to fear?

**Heaven can be created.**

Why…still fearing…despite once already forgetting to feel so…?

**Red…the color of blood.**

Why…fearing to cry…even though the embrace of this man who wiped away his tears was so warm?

**The dreadful frost of being alone. **

And why…still fearing…even if heaven was in those arms as soon as he closed his eyes?

**The fear to fall.**

"…Byakuran-sama…"

"Hmm…?"

Mismatched eyes slowly closed.

"Please…hold me."

…

Hours had past. Dusk had aged into night. The rain had finally stopped, leaving only the pale face of the waxing moon in the sky. Slivers of light shone through the ink-black darkness upon the now sleeping earth. The street that was once crowded, now became but a place for ghost. And the Fountain of Angels became even more silent as there were no more children to play and splash.

There were only sound of gently pouring water and the whistling of night wind.

Yet, in such time when living things were sleeping, one pair of eyes didn't close as their owner stayed and watched…watched the world and the dark night sky…just like how they had been watching it since the beginning of the endless cycle…watching them and always wishing…for the sky to be of black color…for eternity.

Blood-red eye glowed eerily in the shadow. The lithe, naked figure slipped away from the warm embrace that held the 'doll' in its peaceful sleep. Moonlight chased away dark shadow, playing upon the milky complexion of the moving silhouette. In its grip…was sharp, deadly knife.

The blade, like a silent bane, pressed upon the nape of the sleeping victim's neck.

The wind blew, causing one dark cloud to mischievously veil away the moonlight. The bed creaked softly. The knife was just waiting to taste blood.

"Trying to kill me while I'm sleeping. Not a bad idea."

Yet, when the cloud moved away and the silver moonlight was back, the image reflected in the blade were violet orbs as sharp as the knife itself.

"Kufufu. As expected from the boss of Millefiore. Your sense is really sharp." The one with the weapon smiled, pressing a hand on the other's chest as if in warning not to move.

Byakuran smiled back…still smiled without showing any fear. Piercing violet eyes lifted up to meet with his attacker's glowing red one. Red…like unflickering flame.

"You…aren't Mukuro-kun. You're the 'eye', I suppose? Well, I appreciate your attempt to free your owner. So loyal."

The other's mismatched eyes seemed to sparkle dangerously as they narrowed. And the hand on his chest seemed to press harder as the beauty straddling him shifted, long blue tresses softly caressing his skin.

"It seems your blockage weakens when you're sleeping. Or…is it because…kufufu…you start to really fall for this kid?"

The white-haired don gazed at the perfect picture before him: Pale moonlight illuminated flawless white skin, unabashedly showing each of his love marks. And those slim hips that moved ever-so-seductively as if it was natural. And…

"Why, he's worth having, isn't he, this Mukuro-kun? Certainly, he tastes really nice. I haven't started to get bored yet."

This beauty who never cried despite having eyes that reflected so much sorrow it leaked from behind the façade…

Thin lips stretched into a smile as slender hand pressed the knife closer to the other's neck. "No matter what you think, this kid and I are but one person. No matter what color you try to dye him; my color will still be there, inseparable."

"I see." Byakuran chuckled. "Actually, I prefer the old Mukuro-kun."

**The enticing mist…ever so mysterious and elusive.**

Amethyst-colored eyes twinkled in amusement. The taller man abruptly snatched the smaller one's arm, quickly switching their position, pinning the other underneath. Strong hands held the beauty's slim wrists down firmly so that the dangerous knife lay safely still.

**When caught, it wouldn't be easy for one to let go…even if… **

"Now that I've told you that…love me?"

_I have to make you my obedient little doll. _

Warm lips caressed soft cheek, whispering an offer so sweet…so gently before moving to the ear, letting sneaky tongue tease the other's earlobe.

"Especially, when our goals are the same."

**To create one's own heaven. A human striving to be a god. **

"Kufufu. You're so…human."

**A false angel who never allowed refusal. **

Long, dark lashes lowered.

"I'll tell you this…that I cannot object to this kid's will."

"So?"

Byakuran smiled, tilting the other's chin up, fingers playing with petal-soft lips.

"That…" The blue-haired man smirked. "Is the only reason I haven't killed you yet."

That was before another pair of lips sealed his words.

.

**TBC**

.

This chapter is a bit long and is split into two parts in the original version, so I decide to make it the same format here. The next part will be up soon.

Anyway, I thank you everyone who has supported this fic so far and I'm sorry for the long wait. The fic is now continued.

Also, please note that the brainwash!Mukuro is nothing like his old self. Byakuran misses the old Mukuro but it can't be help. We miss him too, aren't we?

As always, reviews are really, really appreciated.

.

**Italian-English note: **

[1] Welcome

[2] Chocolate for my love

(A/N: I'm not sure if the Italian is really correct, though.)


	6. IV: Dolce Veleno: Part B

**Title:** Opheliac

**Disclaimer:** Katekyo Hitman Reborn! © Amano Akira

**Pairing:** Byakuran/Mukuro

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warning:** BDSM, BL, blood, brainwash, yaoi

**Note:** (1) This story is originally written in Thai, translated on friends' request. So please excuse me if the language isn't as flowing. ^^;;

(2) Because this is just translation of my old (if not English) already ended fic, the story only based on Melone base arc.

.

_**Chapter IV: Dolce Veleno (Part B)**_

.

Men…the race of men…every single one of them was full of desires and avid hunger.

"A…ah…" Melodic moans emitted from the lithe figure's throat. The blanket couldn't cover all the dirty evidence – traces of fiery desire let loose. The sheet rumpled, the bed creaked, convincing the realness of the act even though there was only the moon to witness everything that night. Moonlight illuminated every single kiss as its silver slivers heard the sweet nothing whisper and even sweeter moans.

The blanket couldn't completely hide all the marking traces as two silhouettes tangled together with lustful caresses and touches that were more passionate than the deep red color of blood.

"…Mukuro-kun…"

Blurry mismatched eyes lowered, gazing at the man calling his name over and over, kissing him again and again as if he could never drink enough from his lips…as if nothing could really satisfy his thirst as his desire was insatiable.

**Promise of the two demons in the night one couldn't find an angel. **

"I love you…" The white-haired man whispered. Over and over again, he spoke of the words the two of them knew so well it was meaningless, for no matter how often the word 'love' was said, no matter how nectar-sweet each syllable was whispered, all those beautiful words no matter how many – a hundred or a thousand – they were nothing more than lies.

Men…the race of men…every single one of them was full of desires and avid hunger.

Those words were just as empty spoken by the person who never knew the true meaning of 'love'.

It was only lust that drove such desire to possess and never let go, was it not?

Kisses after kisses, and strangely, they deepened, tongue battling, twining, taking longer time for savoring as if longing – never wanting to let go.

"_I…will never be yours." _

Longing…wanting…desiring…perhaps just because it was unattainable, for if he had been careless even for one second, the ever elusive mist would have slipped away from his grip…

"Ah…Byakuran-san…" Lithe body covered with a fine sheen of sweats, the blue-haired beauty lifted his head up to meet with another fiery kiss - silky tresses of hair tumbling down like blue waterfall as deliciously pale throat was exposed. The accursed red eye gleamed in the darkness, looking like unflickering flame that could devour everything…

Except for the tears of a child whose body and soul were an only gift to offer.

The 'eye' never knew love, never knew its true meaning yet…

"I…will never let you have this child."

This man had made this child who had forgotten everything cry…even though those tears were supposed to dry away long, long ago…in the world of eternal darkness where the 'eye' and the little child had made their promise.

**The wish.**

Even though…the truest thing this little child he knew wanted…and longed for was still…

That heaven of angels.

Those winged people who always smiled at him. Those beautiful angels in heaven up high in the sky.

That child always said, ever so wistfully, that the sky was so great…so vast…and so high he couldn't reach.

Was it for that reason that he hated and detested the sky? Aspiring only to paint such sky with the color of blood…as much as he wished for the world to be completely in darkness.

"For he never desires you."

Mismatched eyes narrowed, slender hands pushing at the other's chest – not hard enough to push him away but to signify a stop. "And even if you…can fulfill my desire, you still have no rights in him."

_For you are unable to dry that child's tears._

Amethyst-colored eyes shone with dreadful iciness under the moonlight; however, a smile crept across the white-haired man's face. "Are you trying to use me?" Yet it was a smile devoid of any gentleness or humor. And…

"Use me…and then kill me just like what you've just tried to do."

He couldn't be stopped anymore. Byakuran sank his teeth into the other's throat, leaving a bruise on the milky flesh as if to mark him, showing that he was his possession as his hand moved, trying to get more of those moans and screams from those enticing lips even though…

"Kufufu. It's…the same with you, isn't it?"

Those rosy lips, swollen by countless kisses, were still mocking him with that smile.

_Why…?_

Why did he get so angry when he didn't feel any love?

"_Do you hate me that much?" _

Why did he feel so upset when everything was just a façade?

"_Even if…I like you this much."_

He was only pretending…pretending to care for this doll that had no real heart.

"_My dear Mukuro-kun…"_

Only wanting to crush, to shatter the Mist's ego and pride.

"_I love you…" _

…And so he lied, lying just so that he could wipe those tears he himself made him shed…

"_Byakuran-sama…"_

It was only an enemy. It was only a doll…a tool…this bloody-scented Mist that drew him in with twisted, dark fascination.

"_I love you, Byakuran-sama." _

Only wanting to break him. Only wanting to mark, to possess.

"_You're the most disgusting mafia I've ever known." _

Because there was no love, he was angry.

"_For he never desires you." _

Because there was no love, he was upset.

"_You've no rights in him." _

And because there was no love…

"_I will make you love me…need me…unable to live without me." _

**He didn't want…to let go. **

"Even you can't stop me."

_My beautiful doll, the lovely doll I'm trying to dye with my color, if you finally start to regain what you've forgotten…_

The taller man turned the other face down. And though there was a pillow in his face, it couldn't stop the beauty's ringing laughter. Narrow hips moved towards the other as if in instinct as long fingers intruded the pink, puckered opening, for this body was too accustomed to the false angel's touch – even the softest caress could make his entire body flared with lust as if it were some drugs that was so addicting.

The body that couldn't say no to the love it was receiving even though such love was faked…even though he once tried to deny it.

That child…always running away from love, always fearing it.

_Do you still remember…that foolish person that shed his tears for the heaven that would never welcome him, crying just because he couldn't leave behind his childish desire to be loved? _

**Fearing to fall.**

The 'eye' never felt emotions, only desires and yet…

_Only the desires of this arrogant man playing an angel…cannot become the sky to envelope your sorrow._

When the memories returned, when that child remembered everything, even though the sky was embracing him, he would detest that sky and…

"Kufufu. I'll be watching, then."

Hate it the most.

_Never be careless, for my 'eye' will be watching you…_

Whatever the answer was…

_And you shouldn't forget…to look at yourself. _

…

Far away, on the bed where a figure was supposed to be sleeping, violet eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. In her arms was a snowy owl which once belonged to a horrid enemy; however, right now this owl was the only reminder…the only connection to a certain someone she couldn't feel anymore.

Even though he used to be there.

_My pride…I give it to you._

Not dead…yet not so alive.

That man whose presence she could always feel even when he was in a slumber he couldn't well rest…the one who bore so much sorrow…having to walk through dreams of others, for fearing his own dreams. He, whom she could always feel the slightest presence even when he was silent and not responding…

All now quiet. All now blank. Even though she knew he was still alive.

The shattered pride was painful…much more painful than being dead.

_Mukuro-sama, I want to help you…_

The obstructing barrier…she could feel it. It was so tall and strong that no matter how much she cried for him, he wouldn't hear a syllable. That man…who had given he the meaning of life…

The young girl choked, trying to stop her sobbing, telling herself she had to be strong, for it she cried now, she'd never know how much she'd weep more for the lost him – the one offering her his hand even though his eyes were so sad.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention. Chrome Dokuro got herself up from the bed and put on her shoes before moving to open the door.

Violet eyes stared at the one that should be asleep.

"Boss, you're still awake?"

…

The brown-eyed boy smiled apologetically at the girl. "Ah, well…umm…sorry, Chrome. Did I wake you?"

Chrome Dokuro shook her head. "No. I wasn't sleeping."

"…"

"…"

The supposed tenth Vongola scratched his cheek as the girl merely stared at him in silence. To be honest, he wasn't that good talking to a girl, especially now that he knew very well the reason of her being unable to sleep. Although he knew exactly what to do, knowing what the real problem was and how to solve it, he…didn't have the confidence.

For it was a gamble with the cost of lives.

He wanted to protect everyone, wanted everything to be back to normal, leaving it only a dream…a nightmare so that he could open his eyes and be on his bed in his home. But that wasn't it.

He wanted to protect everyone…but just saying that was much easier than really doing.

He was just a kid.

It was easy to speak of the ideals but when really looking at it, reality was a heavy burden he had to shoulder. The title 'boss' was something more than just roleplaying.

The boss was the sky to envelope everyone – the great, great sky.

Yet, had anyone ever wondered…that even the Sky could be afraid?

Could he really be trust to be responsible for everyone's life and safety? Even though he wanted to trust his friends, he was still worried. This was unlike the Melone base that had only a fraction of Millefiore's immense power. This was the entire Millefiore they'd be facing.

If something went wrong…if someone died, what would he do? He was, after all, a middle school student.

And this girl who was now staring at him…was one of those lives he had to protect and she was waiting for another life…that was in the hand of the enemy.

What should he say to her? Would he be daring enough to speak such sentence like 'Don't worry, I'll help you'?

"Ah, well…"

Yet, it seemed someone decided to save the day. A voice finally broke the tension as another figure appeared from the other end of the corridor.

"What're a boy and a girl doing together in this time they should be sleeping? But oh well…"

The speaker emerged from the shadow – blond hair gleaming in the dim light. The man, as always, had his favorite lollipop in his mouth.

"Actually, it isn't my matter."

.

**TBC**

.

Yes, I'm still working on this fic despite the Future Arc already ending.

Sorry for the long wait. And reviews are really, really appreciated, as always.


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